


And Ty Makes Three

by octopussy (deannawincester)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/M, Female Ejaculation, M/M, Panty Kink, Power Play, Threesome, Voyeurism, sub!Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 08:17:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deannawincester/pseuds/octopussy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long PWP. Jensen and Danneel decide to open their marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Ty Makes Three

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is fiction. Yes, it's about real people, two of whom are actually married to each other and presumably regular sexual partners, but I don't know them and I am not privy to who or what they do off camera.
> 
> Notes: Though the time period is current, JJ Ackles does not exist in this fic. Danneel is not pregnant, nor has she just given birth. If you're in need of a Princess Ackles fix or a pregnancy kink fic this is not it. This is a dirty little (ok it’s long, not little) PWP and not much more.
> 
> Dedication: This fic is for Briar. You're welcome.

They'd talked about it before, entertained it. Not in any way serious, but it'd come up once when Jensen'd laid her out and kissed the full length of her and settled between her legs. He'd looked up and seen how her mouth made this perfect little cock-sucking shape when he tasted her, licked into the blazing hot wetness between her legs.

"Need another cock, don'tcha," he breathed against her, the words out of his mouth before the idea'd even fully formed in his mind, "Need something to suck, fill that pretty mouth of yours." And she'd groaned under him, clenching tight around his tongue, suckling the fingers he'd reached up and slipped into her mouth.

It'd become nearly a regular thing after that because, fact was, they both got off on it like they'd never got off on anything else, not together, not alone. On how Jensen'd lean up while he touched her, teasing, and whisper "Can't get enough can ya, betcha'd take two, bet you'd spread your legs nice and wide and pretty. And it still might not be enough."

They both shivered when Danneel rode him hard, panted challenges, "Need some help?" and "Can you take it, Jen, can'ya handle me all by yourself?" And when he flipped her over, pinned her, fucked her long and deep and growled, "You'd like that, huh? Someone to hold you down while I take what I want," they came faster than either of them'd admit.

And, since the first time, Jensen'd started thinking about it more quickly, more seriously than he’d ever entertained another fantasy. He thought about inviting another man into their bed, in between them, into Danneel. If he was honest with himself he thought about it a lot. 

For a while it was just another vague entry in his spank bank, almost entirely formless in spite of its undeniable eroticism, but one day he'd slipped and put a face on the other guy—Jared's actually—and, well, that'd freaked him right the fuck out. After that every time Danneel brought it up or he tried to call up the image he just couldn't. Couldn't get rid of Jared's face, couldn't get rid of the strange uncomfortable arousal that made him feel like he'd invaded his best friend's privacy, just fucking couldn't. 

Well, until he'd woken up sweaty from one of the most vivid wet dreams he'd ever had.

In the dream he'd watched motionless as Jared fucked Danneel against the wall by their bed. The sweaty slap of her lower back against the wallpaper they’d picked out together when they moved in, the little chocked noises exchanged between his best friend and his wife’s mouths, the barely audible wet sounds of Jared inside her thundered in his ears. He woke up horny and sticky with sweat and come and, worse, angry.

He thought through the possibility enough to know that there were very few men he trusted enough to bring into his bed, but it surprised him to realize that he'd have to handle more than just trusting the guy. He'd need to trust him with Danneel and, even more than that, he'd have to trust Danneel in a way that he wasn't sure he did.

He loved her—fuck, more than anything—but offering her another man, a man who might pleasure her better, might make her laugh more easily, might be better looking or have a bigger cock, or that she might just like more than him for no damn reason at all scared the shit out of him. It felt like offering her a way out, another option, and that was not fucking happening. Danneel was a catch—as much as she was a strong, beautiful woman and the love of his life. A lot of guys had considered her a prize to be won since before she even hit puberty and there was no way he'd let another guy squirm in between them and maybe show her that she could do better than him.

The thought of another man so much as shaking Danneel's hand made him itch with anger and possessiveness. Jensen could picture any man he knew—Jared with his dimples and gym-perfect body, Misha's scarily persuasive charm and perpetual sex hair, or, God forbid, Sebastian or Richard or fucking Matt—weaseling in, jumping at the chance to sample what was his, maybe angling for more than just a taste. So when Danneel brought it up—in an actual conversation, in the kitchen instead of the bedroom—it was all he could do to keep his voice level, thinking here it was already, that Danneel had picked her prize that she was just as eager to survey her options as any man would be to slip into their bed and sidle in between them.

But Danneel didn't suggest anyone. Not then. She probably wasn't even being serious.   
No, she definitely wasn't being serious, not with the way she leaned across the counter to snag a grape from the colander, pressing her ass up against him as he passed and smirked, "Sure you can handle me alone tonight?"

It hit him then like it never had before that they were dealing with possibilities, with fantasies, with dirtysecret intimate things, that there was no inevitability, and that any future decision was theirs, together. That it wasn't a burden for him to bear for Danneel's sake or a rebellion against their marriage on her part.

Not only that. It didn't have to be someone they knew; it didn't have to be a man; it didn't have to happen at all. It was just them, just like it always had been. And, fuck, that was liberating.

That night he stripped Danneel of her painted-on jeans and ate her out right in the kitchen, bent over that counter, all the while murmuring how she'd like that, wouldn't she, like to get spit roasted, like to choke on his cock while another man fucked her.

It became a fun idea again, something he murmured about to get her hot, sometimes even in public. Over the phone; at a backyard barbeque; while they were dressed to the nines and smiling for cameras. 

He stopped putting a face on the other guy, but apparently Danneel had just started to.

The name came out of nowhere when it came. Danneel was stoking Jensen's chest, practically purring as she trailed her fingers toward his belt, mouth running the whole way down, 

"We should've invited someone to watch, you'd like that, huh? Or maybe you'd rather watch,"

Danneel unbuckled his belt, tugging his jeans open, but leaving them up around his hips, tracing the skin just beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs. She looked up at him from her knees, "We should, you'd love that, wouldn't you? Bring someone in, have him make you watch while he touched me. "

Danneel traced the hot, hard shape of his cock with just the tips of her fingers, drawing thin, shivery trails over sensitive flesh. "We'd put on a show, but only if you were a good boy, only if you didn't touch. Only if you sat and watched until he told you to,"

She looked away then, licked her lips, stroked him, still too gently, too lightly, "You'd just sit, itching to touch, to jack yourself off, watching his fingers—fuck, his big, thick fingers—fuck into me, knowing just how that feels,"

Danneel leaned in, breath moistening the cloth over his cock, "Ty'd take good care of you. We'd take good care of you, fuck, gonna take good care of you,"

Jensen noticed the name, started thinking about it--he'd never considered Ty—and almost asked—but then Danneel took him into her mouth, deep throating him slow, and he decided they could talk about it later.

Later came when they were lying side by side, skin on skin, still breathing heavy, high off each other's bodies, Danneel's head tucked against his chest, Jensen asked, "So. . .Ty?"

Danneel blushed--her skin burning hot against him and she pressed her face harder against his chest. "Fuck. I almost hoped you hadn't heard that."

Jensen wanted to ask how long or why Ty in particular, but he just pressed a kiss to Danneel's hair. "Would you really—do you really want that?"

She looked up at him. "Do you?" 

Jensen shrugged, his own face flushing. "I hadn't even thought about Ty," 

"You thought I'd want you to ask Jared, didn't you?" Danneel grinned.

"I, well, not . . . I wasn't,"

Danneel shushed him, tracing a constellation of freckles on his collarbone. "I thought about it—about doing this with Jared," she admitted. "But, he's, he's practically your brother and. . ."

She bit her lip. "Well, he's practically my brother too, plus there's Genevieve to think of. And they have Thomas now. I think he'd say no even if we asked him."

Jense nodded. It was unsurprising that Danneel had come up with the same arguments against involving Jared as he had. "Did you. . . was there anyone else you considered?"

"Well, Misha, of course because. . ."

"Vicki's book. Right."

"Right, exactly, but, Misha's just. . ."

"Just what?"

Danneel smiled wryly. "Um, well . . . I don't think I could handle that," 

Jensen let out a surprised laugh.

Danneel pushed against his chest. "Let me rephrase: I could handle him, but I didn't think I could handle you with him."

Jensen grinned, "We'd be a little much for any woman."

"Says you,"

"So do you,"

"I just know you both too well—you'd turn the whole thing into some complex, philosophical experiment. Wouldn't put it past the two of you to dress in drag and put on fake accents for the occasion."

"Hey, give me some credit, we already ruled out the panty kink."

"Yeah, okay," Danneel conceded. "But you know it's not even farfetched to think Misha'd show up in a dominatrix corset and stilettos."

Jensen had to admit, he didn't have any difficulty whatsoever conjuring that image. "Fair enough."

"And Ty's a nice guy: attentive, sensitive, and, well. . . have you seen his hands?" 

Danneel trailed off, flushing again under Jensen's gaze.

"What about his hands?"

"Um, his fingers are just. . . you know what? Nevermind," She went to sit up, but Jensen wrapped his arms around her.

"No, tell me, I promise not to laugh,"

"It's not funny, it's just a. . . it's just a thing."

"A hand kink? C'mon, Danny, we both have weirder fetishes than that,"

Danneel shook her head. 

Jensen nuzzled her neck, running his nose over the ticklish spot by her ear. "C'mon, tell me,"

She squirmed.

"Come on, baby," He whispered, breath stirring her hair, tickling her even more.”You can tell me,"

She shivered. "Stop it. Tickles."

"Tell me,"

She wriggled for a moment, fighting, but not really, breath hitching in not-quite giggles before she gave in, "Fine! Fine, I'll talk."

Danneel detangled herself and leaned over him. She stroked his chest, watching the movement of her fingers like she couldn't believe she was going to say this out loud. She probably couldn't.

"It's his hands," she finally murmured. "Wide palms and his fingers are so fucking thick, bet he's. . ." she swallowed hard.”I bet he's thick all over, you know? Broad chest, solid arms, thick. . ."

She looked up at Jensen; like she wasn't sure he could handle hearing that kind of stuff from her mouth. Jensen wasn't sure either; he'd stopped breathing somewhere along the line and only gasped for air when Danneel grinned.

"You should shut your mouth—you're drooling."

He was. Just a little.

Confidence regained, Danneel looked him straight in the eye as she continued. "I bet his stomach is solid, soft, but all muscle underneath, bet his thighs are big—like the kind of big that just screams strength, power—and his cock," Danneel licked her lips. "God, I bet it's so thick, so thick it'd hurt to take it, thick enough that you can't swallow around it, massive and heavy, and, fuck, I bet he knows how to use it. Bet he knows how to stretch you, how to push you until you don't think you can take it. Then I bet he pushes just a little harder, fucks you out, takes everything you fucking have-"

Jensen didn't get to hear what Danneel thought Ty did after he left someone well fucked. He was too busy flipping her onto her back and fucking into her long, achingly slow, pushing a finger into her next to his cock, asking how she thought their combined girth compared to Ty's dick.

After, he was too busy with other questions, trying to hide his nervousness and sudden rush of excitement with asking if she was serious, if she was sure about asking Ty, if she was really willing to let another man into their marriage.

She hesitated so long Jensen thought he must have misjudged, that she'd meant this to remain an elaborate secret fantasy, but then she bit her lip and asked, "Aren't you?"  
And that was that. And maybe Danneel didn't know exactly how to go about inviting another man into their bed—Jensen sure as hell didn't—but from that moment it was no longer a question of if, just a matter of time.

He planned to talk to Ty about it, explain, cajole, and persuade in private, arranging the big event so that they would all be at their leisure, able to take their time, explore, go as far as they were comfortable. If he played his cards right it could be a surprise for Danneel. He had no fucking idea how he was going to bring it up to Ty, much less explain or cajole, but he figured that part was probably up to him.   
In the end, he needn't have worried. 

He came home in the evening about a week later, late enough that he thought Danneel might be asleep or at least headed that way. He came in quiet, toeing off his shoes. There was another pair of men’s shoes by the door.

He assumed Jared had dropped by and therefore could not be held responsible for how he stopped dead in his tracks, mouth open around a greeting that died on his tongue, when he began to process the scene in his living room.

Ty was in his living room, Ty had a glass of wine and Danneel had a glass of wine, and Ty was on his couch, God, his fingers were thick, Danneel was in that dress—the one she wore when she felt sexiest, an easy, short-skirted thing that hugged her body in all the right ways—and she was barefoot, a third glass of wine sat on the coffee table, Ty and Danneel were a natural, respectful distance apart—Ty on the couch and Danneel sitting with one legs tucked up underneath her in an armchair.

Jensen swallowed. Ty was on his couch, drinking wine in sock feet, thick fingers curved around the stem of the wine glass.

They both turned and smiled, Ty smile cordial, Danneel's teasing, mischievous, as she took in his stunned look.

He expected Danneel to explain, to tell him how far this had gone, orient him, give him instructions, but it was Ty that spoke.

"We've been waiting for you."

"Yeah, there was traffic," Jensen gestured vaguely, dazedly toward the front of the house. "Took a while to get through."

Ty patted the cushion beside him on the couch. 

Jensen swallowed, hard, and sat, taking a long draught from his wine glass. Danneel watched every movement, her lips still quirked in a playful smile. Her nipples stood out hard through the fabric of her dress.

Jensen worried his lip with his teeth. Had Ty and Danneel already discussed things, figured things out? He couldn't very well just up and ask when the fucking was starting if the subject hadn't been broached yet.

Then Ty leaned in. Leaned in so fucking close that Jensen's eyes crossed trying to keep him in focus. His breath was warm, carrying the sweetness of the wine, gentle across Jensen’s mouth, close enough to-

Jensen's heart stood in his throat. He could almost feel the rough grain of Ty's stubble, the contour of his lower lip. Was Ty going to- He hadn't considered- Danneel, sure, but-

"Your wife and I have been talking,"

Jensen licked his lips nervously, trying to rewet his mouth as it had gone completely dry.

"We talked about you."

Jensen looked up, trying to read Ty's expression, find a cue, some hint to what he should be doing. From so close Ty's eyes were indistinct blue pools. Clear sky blue, still water blue, crazy blue.

"About your . . . need for instruction."

Jensen pulled back—a little hurt, a little indignant, he could damn well please Danneel and if Ty thought otherwise—but Ty grabbed his shoulder, ran his hand up to cup the back of Jensen's head.

"Not that you need it to please," Ty's smile was audible, tangible, it carried in the heat of his body and flow of his breath. "She’s been telling me how you need instruction to be pleased."

Jensen shivered and hoped to God Ty hadn't noticed.

"That what you want? Want me to tell you what to do, how long to do it for? Gonna give you what you need,"

Ty ran his fingers up through Jensen's hair, following the shape of his skull, drawing him in closer, drawing goosebumps on his skin. "Gonna fuck Danny. Gonna give her what she wants, what she needs, but that's not what you need, is it? You, I'm going to fuck you with my words first."

Ty yanked on his hair, pulling Jensen's head back, Ty’s face in sharp, sudden focus.  
"And if you do as I say, if you're a good boy, then you're going to fuck Danny," Ty leaned back in, hand in Jensen's hair still holding him immobile. "You're going to fuck her like you've never fucked her before. You're going to fuck her just like I tell you."  
Jensen couldn't remember when he'd closed his eyes, shutting out the over stimulation of Ty's warmth and too-near eyes, surrendering the movement of his body to Ty's—thick, warm, capable—hands.

Ty stroked Jensen's cheek, followed the curve of his jaw with a finger, and Jensen pushed into the touch like a cat.

"That sound good, Jen? You going to be good and do as I say?"

Jensen nodded, eyes still closed. 

Ty moved away, Jensen couldn't feel him, but his heart still thundered in his ears. The places Ty'd touched him felt cold. It was only when he heard Danneel sigh that his eyes flew open.

Ty was holding Danneel's face between his hands, kneeling over her lap in the armchair, kissing her. The image sent a surge of heat straight to Jensen's groin. He lifted a hand to palm at his suddenly, uncomfortably hard cock and then lowered it. He hadn't been given permission to touch himself. He wasn't even sure he was allowed to watch yet.

Danneel was arched up, hands buried in the fabric of Ty’s shirt, legs spread slightly. God she was beautiful, caged under Ty’s body.

Ty pulled back, slowly releasing Danneel’s lower lip so Jensen could see it stretched between them, connecting their mouths, for one long moment. He turned toward Jensen, turned Danneel’s face with his hand.

“Look at that, Danny. Night’s just begun and he’s already shaking, can hardly stand not to be touching, doing, but he’s trying so hard to be good.”

Danneel’s lips were redswollen with kissing, pursed from the pressure of Ty’s fingers. Ty’s eyes shone, crazy fucking blue.

She stroked Ty’s arm, drawing his attention. 

“Upstairs?”

Ty leaned in, kissed her deeply, if chastely, and pulled back still gazing in her eyes like a lover, like he wasn’t going to just fuck Danneel, he was going to reach into her and carve his own place there.

And Jensen was strangely, suddenly so fucking turned on by that, by watching his friend seduce his wife.

“Yeah, let’s move to the bedroom.”

Ty stood and offered a handle to Danneel, raising her from the armchair. He wrapped his arms around her, unzipping her dress slow and letting it fall from her body and pool prettily on the floor around her legs. Jensen could see the goosebumps on the cut of her thighs, the curve of her breasts. 

It took a moment to register, but Jensen’s stomach rolled when he placed the blue of Danneel’s bra and panties. The same as Ty’s eyes. The exact same. And, fuck, the set was perfect. Sure, lingerie was for Danneel’s sake as much as his and she had final say, but she damn well knew what he liked and this was everything from the lace edging on the bra to the corset lacing on the back of the panties to how the panties cut against the roundest part of her ass. Fuck.

She eyed Jensen, gaze hovering in his lap. He wanted to do something—to cover himself or to pop the button on his jeans, he wasn’t sure—but he hadn’t been given permission so he clenched his fists in the fabric of his jeans.

She was still watching him when she began undoing the buttons on Ty’s shirt, her movements so familiar, and yet so foreign: watching from the outside the light way her fingers moved, the way she craned her head in to whisper something sexysweetdirty and kiss the side of Ty’s neck, and rock her body toward him not quite touching and not quite intentional.

Ty undid his own jeans, letting them fall like Danneel’s dress had, lips brushing her skin when she came close enough. It felt too intimate, both of them in their underwear, close and whispering as Ty stepped on the toe of one sock to pull it off without bending and then the other. It like he was intruding, peeping in on something private, sacred. And that just made it hotter.

They kissed again, Danneel riding leisurely against Ty’s body. And, Christ, Ty’s body is exactly like Danneel said: solid, all power, all muscle from the cut of his calves, up the line of his thighs to his ass. God, his ass. 

Jensen couldn’t see his chest or where his cock was no doubt tenting his boxer briefs, but he had no doubt that Danneel’s predictions had all been right.  
Jensen swallowed hard, clenching his fists tighter.

Almost completely naked, Danneel took Ty’s hand to lead him up the stairs and Jensen had a cold moment of fear that they wouldn’t take him along, that they’d go into the master bedroom, Jensen and Danneel’s bedroom, and fuck and all Jensen would get was whatever noise drifted down.

But then Ty stopped her at the base of the stairs. Jensen looked up at him, fighting a childish puppy dog look, not wanting to look too desperate, just enough to convince Ty that he’d been good enough, that he’d behaved, that he’d earned this.  
Ty’s face was calculating. For a long moment they just looked at him, considering, then Ty inclined his head.

Jensen was up like a shot, crowding into them, but Danneel and Ty paid him only cursory attention, Danneel returning to the stairs, tugging Ty along. Neither of them looked at him. Jensen followed close, but not touching, praying they wouldn’t change their minds. Danneel had had enough sense to know Jensen and Misha together would be trouble, but Ty was a wild card, not having spent enough time with either of them as individuals or together as a couple for allegiances to be formed; as a mostly naked, fucking gorgeous woman Danneel had the obvious advantage. Jensen just hoped she wouldn’t get it into her head to use this still-forming partnership to keep him frustrated.

Once inside the master bedroom, Danneel turned and kissed Ty, dragging him back toward the bed, sliding his boxer briefs off. Jensen followed the movement of Ty’s cock as it dragged against Danneel’s leg, so close. It was thicker than any Jensen had ever seen—thick and long, arching straight out from his body. Fuck, exactly what the doctor ordered.

Jensen hesitated just outside the doorway, watching restlessly as Ty pushed Danneel down, settling between her legs and kissing her neck.

He had a perfect view of Ty’s ass, framed by Danneel’s long legs. His cock twitched involuntarily and Jensen had to press the heel of his hand down hard against it.  
Ty began talking, his voice low and sex-thick, words filling the spaces between kisses and Jensen knew that even though they were aimed at Danneel, it was his reaction to them that Ty was after. 

“He’s still standing there, isn’t he? Doesn’t know what to do with himself. Can you see him?”

Danneel didn’t speak but she must have given a sign that she couldn’t because Ty moved her, turning them slightly to the side so that Jensen could see the entire length of them, Danneel’s chest heaving, legs parted around Ty as he pressed soft, chaste kisses to her throat.

“Is he being a good boy?” Ty asked.

Jensen snatched his hand away from his crotch.

“He is now.” Fuck, Jensen couldn’t see Danneel’s smile, but he could damn well hear it.  
Then Ty looked at him. His eyes were steely. “Don’t touch yourself. Not until I say.”

It was as if the air had been knocked out of Jensen’s lungs, but he couldn’t pull together enough sense to gasp. 

“Disobey and this stops. You go back downstairs. Understand?”

Jensen nodded, trying to act slowly, trying to play it off, but he could feel how jerky, how frantic the motion was.

“Good boy.”

Ty returned his attention to Danneel, kissing and nipping his way down her throat, over the crest of the shoulder nearest Jensen, sliding her bra strap down and lapping at the slight mark it had left there. 

“Look at him,” Ty’s voice was even quieter—Jensen only barely caught the words, but they sent a wave of arousal so strong through him that he felt weak-kneed. “Look at how he’s just standing there, doesn’t know what to do, can’t do anything but watch.”  
Danneel turned her head, her gaze apprising and Jensen could not have felt more exposed, more anxious, more Godpleasefuck if he tried.

“He needs directions. Can you see it? Wants us to tell him what he should be doing, what he should be feeling, where to look, where to put his hands,” Ty worked his tongue under the lace edge of Danneel’s bra and she shivered, spreading her legs a little wider, canting her hips up toward him.

Then, fuck, they were both watching him, watching him clench his fists, taking in how far gone he already was without being touched, observing what they were doing to him like he was a scientific specimen instead of a voyeur. 

Ty cupped Danneel’s breast, mouthing gently over the curve of where her chest became her tit, but his eyes never left Jensen, mouth open wide, tongue moving lazy. Danneel arched up, fingers slow and indulgent through Ty’s hair, learning the line where sideburn became stubble, but her eyes were on him too.

Jensen shifted his weight, hyperaware of the hard, hot line of his cock against the seam of his jeans, uncomfortable, almost painful. 

“Sit down.” Ty’s voice made Jensen jump, but he moved quickly to the chair by the bed—not usually there, Danneel must have known, must have moved it from the study, must have been planning this the entire time—and sat, trying and failing to ignore how he itched to do something.

Ty lifted Danneel slightly, shifting them again so Jensen was viewing them at an angle, able to see her flushed cheeks and up the line of her inner thigh equally well. He raised her up and unclasped her bra, sliding it off over the curve of her breasts, slowly, teasingly.

And even as Ty leaned back in to draw Danneel’s nipple into his mouth, her gaze never left Jensen. 

He tried not to move, wasn’t sure he was even breathing, as Ty lapped under the curve of Danneel’s breast. He licked his lips, wishing he could taste—knowing exactly what Ty tasted: salt and sweetness and God. He made a small noise and Ty looked up at him, running the ridge of his tongue down Danneel’s stomach.

“Look at him,” he whispered against Danneel’s flesh. “Look how much he wants it. Can’t keep his eyes off you. Sitting there. Helpless. Helpless to do anything except watch.”

Ty slipped between Danneel’s legs and she gasped, back arching; her eyes never left Jensen. Not until they closed ands she moaned, fingers threaded in Ty’s hair.  
Jensen’s hips bucked up involuntarily, jeans tight—too tight, too goddamn tight—against his cock. 

Then Ty was looking at Jensen, his mouth wet. “Don’t move. Told you not to move.”  
Jensen froze.

“Just watch,” Ty’s voice was muffled against Danneel’s flesh as he hooked her panties over to one side, worked his tongue into her, up the center of her, sucked at her clit with soft, wet sounds almost covered by Danneel’s sighs and gasps.

Jensen’s fingernails cut into his palms as he pants with the sheer effort of holding still.   
Ty sat back on his knees, tugging Dannel’s panties off. He held them up and breathed in deep and Jensen groaned. 

“Want them, Jen?” Ty extended the panties toward him.

Jensen nodded furiously. “God, please, Ty.”

“Maybe.” Ty sucked in a deep breath. “If you’re good, maybe.”

Jensen whimpered, completely undone. “Please, please, Ty,”

“Shh, Jen, all in good time.” Ty laid the panties on the bed beside him and grabbed Danneel’s ankles, using his grip to drag her closer, spread her legs wider. 

Fuck, Jensen could see how wet she was, even at a distance. Her thighs were shiny with slick and saliva—Ty’s saliva. Danneel’d made him feel things; turned him on with a flip of her hair or a twist of her hips—she got to him like no other woman had. Who could blame him? She was hotter than any woman he’d ever seen and it wasn’t just her perfect tits, long legs, perfect smooth skin, and tight, round ass. Those things could belong to anyone. It was her sweettaunting “Whatcha gonna do about it?” smirk, the way the sway of her hips changed when she knew he was watching, the way her eyes fixed on him as Ty slipped into her—slick and ready—the way her lips parted and she murmured, “Jensen, oh Christ, Jen,”

Ty fucked her slow, drawing so far back that it had to be just the tip of his cock inside her and then pressing back in deep, grinding his hips against her. Danneel grabbed his ass, pulling him into her, lifting her hips to meet every stroke. 

“Slow down, sweetheart,” Ty murmured, holding her hips down against the bed.   
It was Danneel’s turn to whimper. Her body jolted with each impact as Ty fucked her. She crossed her ankles behind Ty’s ass and held on.

He fucked her with short, deep thrusts that sent her slipping across the bedspread, never pulling back far enough to slip out of her. Instead of kissing the sounds right out of her mouth like Jensen always did, Ty bit and licked at her collarbone, leaving little sucking bruises that would last for days.

Jensen’s head fell back and he fought the bucking of his hips, the twitching of his cock; bit his tongue to keep from crying out. He could barely hear Ty, voice muffled between Danneel’s breasts, but the words rang in his head like a foghorn, “God, look at him, gonna fucking come in his pants just watching you,”

And then Ty groaned and Jensen’s head flew back up, eyes open. Ty ground his hips against Danneel, buried inside her, as he came. She wrapped her arms around him, holding his head against her as he shuddered; her eyes were on Jensen, though, two slits like a cat’s as Ty filled her up inside, hot and heavy.

Jensen’s hips jolted again and again, like he was already coming though it brought no relief.

When Ty stopped shuddering, when his grip on Danneel’s shoulders slackened, he looked at Jensen too. His too-blue eyes moved over Jensen’s body like a touch. He raised himself up on his hands and knees between Danneel’s legs, slipping out of her, eyes on Jensen.

“Take your clothes off.”

It took a long, stunned moment for Jensen to realize that Ty had to be talking to him. He was the only one with any clothes on. When he did realize, Jensen struggled out of his clothes, fingers fumbling the button of his jeans, seams popping as he tugged off his shirt. His cock lay hard and flushed against his bare stomach; his skin prickled knowing that Ty and Danneel were taking in every fucking inch of his skin.

“Come here,” Ty motioned him over to the bed. 

Jensen couldn’t take his eyes off Ty’s cock—sloppy wet and, God, just as thick flaccid as it was full, flushed, and straining—as Ty knelt beside Danneel, outside the frame of her legs. 

“Put these on,” 

Ty put Danneel’s panties into Jensen’s hands and he suddenly understood why she’d chosen ones with corset lacing. They were tight and smooth against his cock, tight enough to hold him together, even for a little bit.

He shivered at the touch of Ty’s hands—his thick, warm fingers—as he directed Jensen, pulling, guiding him into position standing at the side of the bed between Danneel’s legs. Ty hadn’t used a condom—of course some part of Jensen’s mind had registered that earlier, after all he hadn’t seen Ty roll one on—but it hit him like an electric shock as he watched the viscous pearly white of Ty’s come dripping out of Danneel’s cunt, thinned by her own juices. 

Jensen moaned, knees weak, hardly aware that the noise was his. 

“Look at her, Jen,” Ty’s fingers brushed the back of his neck, short nails scraping, down the curve of his shoulder. “Can you see how close she is to coming? Drove her right to the edge for you. You see that tremor? See how she’s shaking? See how goddamn wet she is?”

And Jensen could see it. Could see the minute trembling in Danneel’s tensed thighs. Could see the sheen of each drop of come as it slipped out of her, trickled between her cuntlips, wetting the blanket under her ass. 

“Want to taste her, Jen?” Ty’s breath curved over his jawline, his stubble raised goosebumps on his skin.

Jensen nodded; he’d given up on fighting frantic while he was still confined to the chair by the bed.

“Gently,” Ty cupped the back of Jensen’s head, leading him forward. He fell onto the bed between her legs. “Slow, Jen,” he said, as if he could read Jensen’s desperation in the movement of his body. 

On his hands and knees, Jensen let Ty’s touch push him forward until his face was a fraction of an inch from Danneel’s pussy.

“Can you smell her, Jen?” Ty’s words were more breath than voice. “Breathe in deep.”  
Jensen groaned at the earthy, deep Danneel smell. It could very well have been his imagination, but he though he could smell the difference between the clear of Danneel’s juice and Ty’s semen.

“You can almost taste her, can’t’cha?”

Jensen whimpered. The tip of his nose grazed the slick between his wife’s legs as he nodded.

“Gonna let you taste her, Jen, gonna let you lick all that out of her nice and slow, but you’ve got to do as I say. You disobey you know what happens, right?”

“I—you send me away,”

Ty stroked the short hair at the nape of Jensen’s neck. “That’s right. You’ll stop and go back downstairs. Alone.”

“Please.”

“Please, what, Jen?”

“Please, no, want . . .”

Ty laid his lips on Jensen’s shoulders in a chaste kiss. “God, you’re shaking as hard as she is. Want this so bad.”

“Please,”

“Yeah, ok, yeah, taste her. Slow. Don’t put your lips on her, just your tongue.”  
Jensen stuck his tongue out, dipping into Danneel, moaning at the taste, curling the end of his tongue to collect the taste on his tongue. He lingered, running the roll of his curled tongue over the hood of skin where he knew her clit was hidden. Her body jerked beneath him and for a moment he felt in charge again, smirked against her, but then Ty pulled him back up by the hair, so fast Jensen hardly had the sense to pull his tongue back into his mouth, whispering in his ear again.

“Saw that.” 

Jensen didn’t ask what. Couldn’t’ve if he’d wanted to; his mouth was suddenly too dry.  
“You know Danneel told me a secret while we were waiting for you,”

Jensen couldn’t have articulated why Ty’s words made his heart stand in his throat, made his hands tremble. 

“You know what she told me?”

Jensen shook his head, pulling at Ty’s grip in his hair, sending delicious little pinpricks of pain through his scalp.

“She told me you’ve been . . . remiss in your duties.”

Jensen whimpered. Fuck, he was about to be punished—didn’t matter what for, not really—he could feel it tingling over his skin. All that remained to be seen was how Ty intended to punish him.

“Said you’d fuck her like you never have, and you will. Here’s the catch: you don’t come until she does. And I mean really come,” Ty’s breath was too-hot, wine-scented against his skin. “You ever seen that, Jen? Seen a woman really come? Ever done that to a woman, found that spot deep in her, pushed her so far she tries to get away because it’s too much?”

Jensen was suddenly viciously aware of his cock, twitching and dribbling a steady stream of precome through the panties, down the crease of his thigh. He shook his head. He’d seen women squirt in porn, of course he had, but he’d never tried.   
Honestly, they’d never had the collective patience to try. Jensen would’ve found it in him, but it had never occurred to him that Danneel would want to try it.

“It’s something to see, Jen. Think she’ll cry? Some women do.”

Danneel shivered. God, she was soaked. Jensen licked his lips.

“It won’t take too much; might surprise you how little. She’s so close.”

Ty pressed him in until Jensen’s mouth was laying flat against the wet of Danneel’s cunt, drowning in the scent of her arousal.

“Lick.”

Jensen pressed a flat kiss to Danneel’s pussy-lips, gratified by the way goosebumps prickled her thighs. He touched his tongue to her, ran it up the center of her, dipping in, hesitating only for a moment over her clit.

He nosed against the line of her thigh meeting her body before returning to lapping with slow, concentrated strokes, cleaning away the mess Ty’d left.

“Good boy,” Ty purred and Jensen’s cock jumped. He whimpered. “That’s right, clean her up good. You can use your fingers.”

Jensen spread Danneel’s inner lips with his fingers, tracing the folds as if really chasing the taste of Ty’s come, but entirely satisfied with the way Danneel’s hands had found his shoulders, nails digging in as he turned his head slightly, sucking her into his mouth.

“That’s enough.”

Jensen froze. He bit his lower lip; his entire mouth tasted of Danneel.

“Put your fingers inside her, middle and ring finger. You know how to find her g-spot, right?”

Jensen nodded, breathless. His fingers slid in easily. She was still sloppy-slick inside, even if she was saliva-clean on the outside.

Danneel grabbed his shoulders harder. She’d left Ty give most of the directions, but Jensen could tell not taking control was killing her, could feel it in the crescent-shaped bruises forming in the meat of his shoulders.

He curled his fingers inside her experimentally, pressing the tips against her g-spot. Danneel gasped, still over-sensitized from Ty’s play.

“Fuck her with your fingers,” Ty’s voice had dropped, low and sex-harsh. 

Jensen obeyed, pushing his fingers in a little deeper before pulling them almost all the way out. The dirtywet noise made his stomach turn excited somersaults. 

“Faster.”

Danneel opened for him easily, spreading her legs wider as he thrust his fingers into her.

“Make sure you’re hitting her g-spot,”

Jensen corrected his angle slightly and Danneel groaned, “Fuck, Jen, right there,”   
She shook as Jensen got a little braver, fucking her harder, faster without waiting to be instructed.

“God, she’s so close, Jen. See how her breathing’s changed?” Ty’s lips brushed Jensen’s ear as he spoke, sending shivers down Jensen’s spine. “Play with her clit, Jen.”

Jensen used his free hand, pressing to the side of Danneel’s clit like he knew she liked and then rolling it in his fingers.

“Jen!” She was close; he couldn’t tell anymore if she was encouraging him or warning him.

Ty’s teeth scraped Jensen’s ear when he ordered, “Suck her clit. Don’t stop fucking her, sucking her, until I say.”

Jensen did as he was told, licking at the sensitive bundle of nerves before sealing his lips around it and sucking. 

Danneel bowed off the bed with a yelp, inner walls clenching frantically around his fingers, as she came, splattering Jensen’s chin with clear ejaculate. He couldn’t tell if her nails, like tiger’s claws, were digging in to drag him closer or shove him away. She writhed on the bed, whimpering, “God, Jensen, fuck, please, oh God,”

He kept fucking her even when he thought it was getting to the point of pleasure-pain tipping into pain because Ty hadn’t told him to stop. Danneel sounded as though she couldn’t breathe, her words more jumbled breaths than anything, she squirmed, trying to push Jensen away, but Ty hadn’t said he could stop so he didn’t let he  
r.  
Ty was talking to Danneel, stroking her thigh, pressing his palm against the flat of her stomach to heighten the orgasm. “Doing so good sweetheart, Jesus, so pretty when you come,”

Then Ty put his hand on Jensen’s shoulder, over the scratches left by Danneel’s nails—deep enough to draw blood. “Stop.”

Jensen pulled away, breath coming in jagged gasps. His face was soaking wet and, away from Danneel’s heat, his cheek and chin felt cold.

Danneel looked wrecked: hair splayed in a wild, sweaty halo, eyes glazed, entire being trembling, mouth opening around words and breaths that refused to cooperate. Shit, she looked more beautiful than Jensen had ever seen her.

When Ty guided him up—hands and words low and gentle as he hooked Danneel’s pantys to the side to release Jensen’s cock—to enter her, aftershocks still wringing through her, Jensen couldn’t help leaning in to press a deep kiss to Danneel’s half-open mouth even though he hadn’t been given permission.

He groaned, “I love you,” past her lips as he thrust into her slow, Ty’s voice setting the pace, Ty reaching in and tucking a stray strand of hair—caught in their kiss—behind Danneel’s ear. The sudden stimulation on his cock—Danneel still caught up in her orgasm, inner muscles pulsing around him, entire body tensed against the too-much pleasure—had Jensen coming in a shorter time than he would have believed possible, leaving him boneless on top of Danneel.

They weren’t really kissing so much as breathing together. The wet precome on Jensen’s hip and thigh, the slick on his cheek, stuck to Danneel’s skin, the smell of sex heavy in the air.

“Guess we didn’t really rule out that panty kink,” Danneel breathed out a laugh.  
And then Ty was there, rolling Jensen onto his back next to Danneel, cleaning him up gentle, shimmying the stained blue pantys down his thighs, hands stroking his bare skin to ground him, murmuring, “Good boy, Jen, such a good boy for us.”  
Jensen, mostly recovered, watched as Ty did the same for Danneel, wiping the stickiness of sex from her skin, smiling against her mouth.

Then Ty had his boxers and was out of the door and Jensen—who was counting on the three of them lying there together, sharing their exhaustion and satiety—blinked, waiting for him to come back. When he didn’t, Jensen stood so fast his head spun and raced down the stairs.

Ty was putting on his socks. His clothes were all on. Except a sock, but he put it on as Jensen watched. Ty spotted him and smiled. “Danneel’s going to need you,”

Before he’d even really decided what he was going to do, Jensen had his mouth pressed to Ty’s. The kiss was all stubble-burn and the wine coming faintly through the earthy taste of Danneel in Ty’s mouth and nothing like Jensen had expected kissing a guy to be like, not that he’d thought about it a lot. It was sweeter, slower, somehow more tender and deep than he’d anticipated.

“Come back upstairs,” Jensen cradled Ty’s face. “She’s going to need you too.”

“Are you sure?” Their mouths were so close that they were speaking into, instead of to, each other.

“Please,” Jensen pled. “I want you there.”

Ty’s crazy blue eyes lit up then with a real smile. He angled Jensen’s head in his big, capable hands and kissed him before taking Jensen’s hand and leading him back up the stairs.


End file.
